


Impressive

by Symph95



Series: Bokuaka Week 2020 [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, BokuAka Week 2020, College, M/M, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:48:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25651612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Symph95/pseuds/Symph95
Summary: Bokuto believed he was about as imperfect as they could get. So how was he supposed to impress his Mr. Perfect roommate?
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Series: Bokuaka Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1860532
Kudos: 39
Collections: Bokuaka Week 2020





	Impressive

**Author's Note:**

> Well hello there! I hope you are well! Welcome to my first work for Bokuaka Week 2020. I hope you enjoy!

It started with a simple observation. A thought with shadows of touch too long. His hair was out of place. 

Frowning into the mirror, Bokuto twisted the loose ends into his spikes. Even then it looked a little off. He grumbled as a voice in his head told him to redo it, that it stood out too much.

_ Yesterday, Akaashi was complaining about his hair. What do you think he’ll say about yours? _

Heat coiled in his stomach, and he combed at it again until everything was in order. 

_ There.  _

An alarm cut through the air; the sound akin to that of a chalkboard. It jolted through Bokuto’s back, tensing each of his muscles. He sucked in a breath and did another check of his hair. 

The buzzing finally cut off, and Bokuto sent his own mental timer for twenty minutes. His bag was ready, all that was left was his outfit. 

He tiptoed back to his room as a groan carried from the closed door across from his. The sound shot Bokuto to his dresser in a heartbeat. Glancing over his shoulder, he locked himself in and proceeded to go through his clothes. A yawn tore his mouth open as he set out two outfits, looking between them in competition to see which one he should wear.

In the midst of his conundrum, his phone buzzed. He stared between the screen and his clothes before walking over and picking up the device. Squinting at the notification, he opened it.

Cold torn through his stomach as the video appeared on screen. His hand clenched around his phone as his blood turned to ice. 

_ How did they find it? How did it get out?  _

“How?” he breathed. 

But he couldn’t look away from the video. It sat there, in front of his vision exposed with two hundred shares. Only an hour ago it had been posted. 

_ No, no, no! This can’t be happening! They’re going to— _

Bokuto jolted from the buzz of an alarm across the hall. He cursed and unhinged his grasp from his phone, opting instead to toss on the second outfit. Smoothing it in the mirror, he heard the echoes of insults running through his head. A silent plea was made that comments were disabled.

Heading out of his room, he banged around the kitchen trying to make eggs. Within minutes two sets of fluffy omelets were squeezed together on the kitchen bar. A groggy groan sounded a couple seconds later.

“Rise and shine,” Bokuto said. “I made us some breakfast. Nothing burnt this time, I promise. Cooked with the skill of a chef.”

Akaashi’s eyes lit up, sleep being chased away. 

“Your eggs are quite good. Thank you.”

Bokuto winked as he finished drying off the frying pan and putting it away. He accompanied Akaashi while they ate.

“How do you think you did on the math test?” Bokuto asked. “With your help I think I aced it.”

“I felt pretty good. There were a few hard questions.”

“Oh yeah, the one with the garden was pretty complex.”

Akaashi nodded. “Definitely that one.”

Bokuto cleared off their plates as Akaashi went back to his room to get changed for class. His eyes darted to Akaashi’s phone and for once he was thankful that he didn’t have social media. He ran his hand through his hair again, checking with his phone to make sure it was good.

_ You could change it a little— _

“Are you ready to go?” Akaashi asked, appearing in the kitchen. His hair was swept in a gentle curve, and the blue of his jacket perfectly matched his eyes.

“Let’s get going.”

Bokuto squashed down the gnawing in his stomach to grin and race after Akaashi.

By the time the end of class came, Bokuto’s mind was racing. A fever ran through his brain from overthinking. He kept glancing at his phone, sure someone saw it. And once he got his test back, that added another wave of darkness to seep through his mind.

_ Huh, I’m still that dumb. _

The seventy marked on his paper had been thrown into his bag before Akaashi could see it. It burned there when he stared at the ninety-four on Akaashi’s paper. The heat around him rose. 

“Wow, that’s really impressive,” 

“It’s pretty good.”

“ _ Pretty good?  _ An eighty is  _ pretty good. _ ”

Akaashi’s humming cut off. The edge of the paper crinkled in his grasp. 

“Sure.”

Knots tightened in Bokuto’s stomach. 

_ Are my standards really that low? _

“How’d you do?” Akaashi asked. 

Sweat clung to his hands. 

“I uh… seventy… I mean eighty-eighty!”

Another humm rang through the air, this one a bird song.

“The late night studying is helping then.”

“Yes! We should, uh, continue. That is if you don’t mind. I mean if it’s—”

“That’s fine. It helps me too, you know?”

“Of course!”

The humming disappeared again. Instead a buzz on Bokuto’s leg replaced it. He reached in his pocket, seeing the bright screen light up with the familiar tag. Again, his fever returned at the message. Shaking his head, he pocketed his phone and tried to offer a smile.

“Sorry, I totally forgot that I need to meet Kuroo. Captain stuff, you know?” Bokuto said. “Afterwards do you want to study, seeing as I know you’ll miss seeing this guy.”

“I have something to do this afternoon, but it should be finished by the time your practice ends. I’ll see you then.”Akaashi said with a glance as Boktuo’s phone.

“Sounds great! I’ll see you later!”

The coffee shop was open twenty-four hours. It was called Coffee Haven, but it earned the nickname Coffee Heaven from the university students. A true gift for the late night studiers or early morning athletes.

The pings of all the phones was driving up Bokuto’s nerves. 

Kuroo slammed the drinks on the table, one piping while condensation soaked the other. Bokuto startled at the sound and snatched his coffee. Caffeine dwelled in his bloodstream a second later, ready to jolt him at practice that evening. 

“I just bought you your pick me up for practice and I don’t even get a thank you?” Kuroo said.

“Thanks.”

“Someone’s a little mopey today.”

Bokuto shrugged as he tried to look through the hole at the warm dark liquid, but the lid covered it. He swished it around before the bitter taste filled his mouth. His face twisted, and he wished he ordered the cool frappuccino in Kuroo’s hands. The room grew hotter by the second. He removed his hands from the drink while one unconsciously drifted to his pocket. 

_ What’s everyone saying about it? Do they hate me? _

“You saw it didn’t you?” he asked.

Something clattered behind the ordering counter. A boy with green hair rushed to pick it up and more crashes ensued. Bokuto didn’t lift his gaze, his eyes were locked on his phone. 

“Yeah, I did,” Kuroo said. 

“Everyone’s going to know. Dammit, I thought I was safe.”

“If you explain it, I’m sure they’ll understand.”

“I don’t think they will.”

His stomach coiled while his fever pounded against his brain. He could see it all, the pointing, the laughing.

_ He’s so childish. Should’ve been held back.  _

“Hey you okay there?” Kuroo asked. His hand rested on Bokuto’s arm, something cold to stabilize him. The coffee shop raced around him. Snapping up, he flinched at the sound of another crash and a loud sorry. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Nothing wrong here,” Bokuto said. “I think it’s the caffeine.”

Kuroo clicked his tongue and leaned back. The second his hand retracted, Bokuto’s fever tore through the once iced spot. He eyed Kuroo’s drink.

“I’m going to go get some water,” Bokuto said. “Do you want anything?”

Kuroo’s chair scraped the ground. “I can get it for you.” 

“It’s fine, you sure you don’t want anything?”

It stopped. “I… yeah, I’m okay.” 

Bokuto grinned with a nod and navigated around the full tables. He apologized after tripping over a girl’s leg, and let out a sigh of relief when he finally got to the two person line. A phone buzzed, and, with a jolt, he checked his. No messages, but the person in front of him started loudly talking.

A picture of his old team smiled back at him. His hand flashed to put it away. 

As he waited, he tried to distract himself with little observations. The frickles on the barista’s face, and the soft voice of the man in front of him. Even still, those little voice crawled into his ears.

_ What if the coach sees the video? You’ll get thrown off the team for sure. _

In his delirium, he didn’t notice someone had approached from behind until something pricked his shoulder. Whirling around, he clenched his hands then released them a second later.

“Akaashi? What are you doing here? I thought you had something going on?” Bokuto asked.

“Oh yeah. I was picking up coffee before I went over. It might take a little longer than I initially planned,” Akaashi said. His hands shuffled together. 

Bokuto glanced at them before picking his head back up and trying to give a smile. He opened his mouth to speak, but his voice got lost. 

“Next customer!” The barista yelled.

Bokuto turned and ordered his water, grabbing it seconds later while he moved to the side for Akaashi to order. He grinned at Akaashi’s eye roll.

“Only you would get water from a coffee shop.”

“What can I say? I have to keep hydrated otherwise I won’t look all cool running on the volleyball court.”

Akaashi snorted. “Sure.”

Bokuto watched as he ordered. His slender hands pointed at this and that while his brow quirked for second. He ordered what he always did (a blonde roast with a dabble of cream). Then he asked for another drink, a caffe latte with caramel. 

The water in his hand turned warm. He sipped it to keep himself from saying anything, but that didn’t stop his brain from becoming a tornado. Clatter in the cafe disappeared under the load of flaming questions.

_ Why are there two drinks? Maybe they’re both for him. He usually doesn’t get latte’s, right? Could it be for someone else? Does he like someone else? Oh, shit what if he does. I guess I have to step— _

A shot of cold ran through Bokuto’s arm as he twitched himself back awake. Slender hands were cool on his wrist.

“Are you alright, Bokuto-san?”

“Yes of course, I’m fine! Never been better. Just thinking about practice after this.”

Akaashi dropped his hand. “Alright.” 

Bokuto glanced at it and tugged his drink closer to him. He sipped at it sheepishly trying to drown at his still racing mind. It only caught on a speed bump before racing ahead in delirium. He wondered if he should count the seconds until the vertigo kicked in.

At forty, the drinks were delivered, and Akaashi picked them up with a quick thank you. 

“Well, I’ll see you later for studying.” He gave a curt nod before leaving. Bokuto’s mouth finally opened when the bell on the door rang.

With dejected shoulders and blood flaming, he crashed back into his seat in front of Kuroo. His lips picked around the straw, and he nibbled at the red plastic. It dented inwards with little shreds getting caught in his mouth.

“He had two drinks,” Bokuto said.

“Could be meeting a friend?” Kuroo said. “Don’t be so hard on lover boy.”

“He’s not my lover! I mean,” Bokuto said. “I don’t think he’s impressed by me.”

“I don’t think anyone has ever been impressed by you.”

“Shut up! I’ve really been trying though. Around him, I haven’t even gotten… you know.” His eyes darted to his phone unconsciously.

“You should tell him at some point,” Kuroo said. “Where do you go when it happens anyway?”

“I can’t tell him that!” Bokuto said. “He’ll hate me. Have you  _ seen  _ him? Mr. Perfect? Mr. Beautiful? He’d never be with me if I said anything, or did anything. And it doesn’t matter anyway, I’ll keep myself under control.”

Kuroo's hands began to tap at the table. The pattern buzzed through Bokuto’s brain sending a flood of thoughts. He winced as he tried to force them down. But like little spiders they kept crawling up and spinning their web.

“Like I thought, it hasn’t been a good day has it?” Kuroo asked pointedly. Bokuto frowned and nibbled again at his straw. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Kuroo said. “You can come to my house to detox tonight.”

“I said I would study with him.”

“Just cancel on him. Say I invited you over. C’mon man you know what happened last time. We can chill and watch your favorite movie.”

“I said no!” Bokuto stood sharply. “If he has someone going after him, I have to impress him. He’s so amazing, I can’t let him go for whoever this is.”

Kuroo’s gaze lowered. He stared down at his drink before letting out a sigh. 

“Fine. Call me if you need me.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“This isn’t fine.”

It was the end of practice. Bokuto’s shirt still had the stench of sweat and his arms were slick. A blanket engulfed him, toasting every part of his body. 

He stared at the locker room ground, not wanting to make eye contact with his coach nor look at the device in his hands. Someone ratted him out, but at this point his mind was a fiery tornado that threw away that information. His hands clenched at his side while his jaw grinded.

“The video?” Bokuto asked.

“The fact you got into a fight with a player on another team,” Coach Yamiji said.

“He egged me on.”

“It doesn’t matter, Bokuto. We can not tolerate this behavior. You have to write a formal apology at the least. And you’re benched for the next three games.”

“But—”

“I don’t want to hear it. What you did was childish and reckless. What was even the point of fighting him?”

_ You’re so childish.  _

The room disappeared in and out of focus. A waterfall of insults fell down his back. His fever was quenched as cold ice poured through him. Shivers ran through his body. He tried to steady himself and focus on Yamiji’s words. Focus on anything else. 

_ So childish. Should’ve been held back. He can’t even control himself, how is he captain? What if he has another outburst today? I don’t think I can handle it. _

“How long until I snap?”

It was eleven by the time Bokuto escaped practice. He wobbled his way up the steps, leaning against the railing. The metal pushed into his skin, but if he wasn’t looking at it, he would’ve thought it wasn’t there. 

The steps opened up to a line of rooms. He fumbled with his keys, but he couldn’t grab onto anything. Hanging his shoulders, he nudged at the door, finding it open. Legs nearly caving in, he stumbled through. 

“I’m back!” Bokuto said. “Do you still want to study?”

Rustling answered back. 

Bokuto blinked and dropped his backpack on the ground. 

“Akaashi?”

The rustling came again, this time more fervent. Bokuto followed it to Akaashi’s door. He called one final time before peeking his head in. His mouth froze midcall. 

There was a girl. Straightened hair, made up lips. Lips that were on Akaashi’s. 

“Oh,” Bokuto said, two sets of eyes on him. “Sorry.”

He closed the door before watching further. Strength poured into his legs enough for him to move towards the entrance, then bolt outside and down the stairs. Rushing past a man on the steps, he didn’t even call out an apology. 

The steps caught under his feet but he held steady, at least until he got out the door to their apartment complex. Concrete echoed against his feet. The cold in his veins melted with the beating of every footstep. It collected into his stomach, and his blood began to boil. His pot cooked for too long.

Stumbling into an alley, he gasped for air. He choked out a cough and tried sucking in air. Little by little it came in, fanning the flame growing bright and brighter in his chest until it rose up. 

And he screamed.

The moon was at the highest point in the sky. A thousand little stars accompanied it. All of them tried to brighten the world. But everywhere around Bokuto was dark.

He sat in an abyss: his breathing heavy, his thoughts wild. Everything around glinted in high energy, but his little corner of the world was a small pocket hidden from everything else.

Scratches tore his skin open, scabs cut at his knuckles. He buried his hands between his legs hoping no one could see them and the red ink painted under his fingernails. His shirt was soaked, his cheeks red, his lips split. 

And those insults still hung around his head.  _ Childish, reckless, stupid, uncontrollable.  _

He tried, he really tried. At least Akaashi hadn’t seen him. 

_ Akaashi.  _

A small flame flickered, but the image of that girl snuffed it out as soon as it appeared. 

“Hah,” Bokuto said. “I’m really an idiot.”

“No you’re not.”

Bokuto’s head whipped up. His eyes locked onto familiar ones he saw everyday. Those eyes that could spend all day swimming in.

He backed up. 

“I brought you some coffee,” Akaashi said. “You have morning practice in a few hours. You might need to pick me up.”

“It’s that late?”

“You’ve been out here a while.” 

Bokuto stared into the coffee cup he was handed. The lid was removed and fresh puffs of steam hit his face. He inhaled the smell, catching a whiff of Akaashi’s blonde roast. His breathing eased, and he took a sip. Warmth spread over his chest.

“You know you can tell me if you’re upset,” Akaashi said. “You don’t have to keep it in.”

“What… what do you mean?”

Akaashi’s coffee let out a puff of steam, and he blew it away. “I went after you to make sure you were okay. I heard what you were saying. And… I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing? It’s not your fault, it’s mine. I should be able to keep myself in check.”

“No, it isn’t,” Akaashi said. “You didn’t have much of an outlet, did you? Trying to act all perfect around me? Anyone would blow at some point if they tried to act perfect at their ‘home’ all the time.” 

Bokuto took another sip of his drink.

“But I’m sorry for not coming sooner. I saw you and tried to help, but that girl wanted more. I told her off, but I should’ve been here for you.”

“It’s not your responsibility. You’re not my mom.”

“I had to remind you to do your homework last night.”

“Well that’s…”

“I’m teasing Bokuto-san. I do it because I enjoy it. Just like I enjoy you.”

“Enjoy me?”

“Like you.”

Bokuto almost crushed the cup in his hands. His head whipped the side. 

_ “What?” _

Akaashi shook his head. “I didn’t stutter did I?”

“But you… but I… I’m not perfect like you.”

“I’m not perfect either, Bokuto-san, and I’ve never liked perfect. I think you’re far more interesting. Bruises and all.”

He collected Bokuto’s hands, and brushed his lips against them. Warmth spread to Bokuto’s stomach and face. Looking away, he fought the urge to rub his neck. Instead, he forced his eyes to look at Akaashi’s.

“Well, I think you’re pretty interesting too. Hah. And yeah, I uh, like you.”

“You weren’t that subtle about it.”

“Well I’m sorry, I was trying to impress you all this time.”

“I’m always impressed by you Bokuto-san. I didn’t know how to express it. I guess that’s something we should work on, huh?”

“Yeah I would… like that.”

Bokuto's arms drew closer around Akaashi, and the voice in his head grew quiet. Akaashi’s grip drew a blanket of ease over him, collecting each scattered part of him and making it whole. One piece fell and he let a tear streak down his cheek, but it caught itself in Akaashi’s mussed hair. 


End file.
